Rainbow Six Siege: The New Blood
by Insomnia24-7
Summary: New operators join team RAINBOW against their will. Difficulties will arise, conflicts will present themselves, and people will be hurt. But who will survive, and who won't?
1. Chapter 1: The New Blood

The truck ripped down the street. Light posts flew past, tires rolling on gravel and asphalt. Devin looked out from the barred windows, observing the scenery moving past the cage on wheels. He looked back at the occupants of the truck. His sister was planted beside him, apparently dozing off. There was a woman with dirty blonde medium length hair, her sight was aimed at her feet. She was thinking. Thinking about the man who ratted her out. Her mind flooded with millions of ways that she was going to murder him. One idea involved a camping hatchet. The wedge would find it's way into his sternum, tearing flesh, severing veins, splintering bone. She would rip it out, and blood would flood like a grotesque fountain, splashing onto the ground, staining the street with the crimson liquid. Then she would tower over his dying body, lift the ax, and slam it into his cranium. He would be no more than just a stupid fucking _rat,_ dead on the concrete. His family would try to find her, sure, but she would deal with them to. It would be a classic case of guilt by association. Another involved leading him to the top of a skyscraper, and then ramming him off the edge of the building. He would barrel down towards the earth. He would hit the ground, and become a human puree, a mangled mess of bone and flesh, a festering carcass, a popped meat sack. Whatever you would call it, it didn't matter. Whatever way he was gonna meet his end, didn't matter either. Blood was going to be shed, and he was gonna die, one way or another. She was interrupted from her plans of evisceration by a raspy masculine voice, speaking to her.

"So, w-wuh-what's your name Blondie?" Devin Whitecastle inquired, staring at her with green eyes. He fidgeted with his shackles, shaking them around. "You s-seemed lost in thought...".

"Mila... Mila Brooks." Mila Brooks spoke, diverting her gaze at the scars on Devin's face. She grimaced at the sight of them. They were a eccentric tango of light peach, light pink, and tan sand, and looked like how old, ragged leather felt. "What's with the scars?" She asked in a worrisome manner. Devin let out a muffled bout of laughter, cupping his hand over his mouth.

"Uh-uh-um, that's a fuh-funny story... well, one day I-I-I was torching m-m-my house, be-be-because... uh-um, burning puh-people-th-THINGS felt AMAZING! Buh-but the r-ruh-reason I was doing this was because m-my-my f-fuckhead of a father duh-decided to beat me... oh-over and over... a-ah-and the f-fu-fucker tried to h-hurt my sister," He gestured to his sibling, Lilith, sleeping on the seat beside him. "And I d-d-didn't FUCKING LIKE THAT! So, I burnt the h-house down... and f-father... he's dead now..." He snickered. "B-b-but when I burnt the h-house down, I forgot Lilith inside. So, I went in to g-get her. But, when I went got out w-w-with her, _this_ happened." He pointed to his facial scars, and rubbed his messy brown hair.

"Did you go to a hospital for it?" Mila said, intrigued by his story. He hung his head back, and let out a dry answer.

"I-I-I had just cuh-committed second-degree a-arson... I couldn't go to a hospital." He croaked. "So Lily helped me c-clean it, bandage it, tape it up. It w-was a fucking m-miracle that it didn't g-get infected. I'm Devin, by the w-way..." He extended his arm.

"Nice to meet you, Devin." Mila shook his hand, and was almost thrown out of her seat as the car lurched. Tires screeched, followed by the sound of a padlock being opened and a gate creaking.

"Hey Lily, w-wake up..." Devin shook his sister awake. Her eyes groggily opened, revealing green eyes identical to her brother's. "We're here."

* * *

"So, there are some new recruits, eh?" Seamus Cowden inquired, resting on the leather sofa, legs propped up on the coffee table. He turned his head to Mark Chandar, waiting for an answer. He said nothing. His gaze was fixed on the information files, his face shifted into an inquiring stare. Seamus cocked an eyebrow and went back to staring at the wall. The R&R room was decent enough, holding a television on a wall, a water cooler near the corner, and some books, magazines, a Rubik's cube, and some other assortments on the coffee table. A small, but efficient ceiling fan span overhead, providing a counter-measure for when the room got stuffy. The entrance to the room was a central hallway in which every room on the first floor was attached to. Seamus looked back at Mark again, still waiting for a response.

"Yeah... four of 'em." He finally replied, turning to face Seamus. "Devin and Lilith Whitecastle, code named Arson and Blowtorch, respectively. Then, there's Markus 'Ace' Nowak, and Mila 'Slugs' Brooks." Mark leaned forward, handing the folder to his teammate. He snatched it from him, reading it over. His finger trailer along the words till he hit the end of the text. He put it on the table, resting back into the couch. He put his arms behind his head, his hands cupping the back of his noggin. The duo turned to the linear corridor before them, hearing the clicking of boots, and the opening of the large steel doors. People in uniform rushed down the hallway, carrying boxes of equipment, clothing, toiletries, and other objects of the sort. All of this was standard protocol for new agents.

'Looks like they're here.' Mark thought to himself, all to familiar with the hustle-and-bustle routine. Getting up, he grabbed a paper cup from the water cooler, putting it under the tap. Still looking at the hall, he filled the cup, miraculously not spilling. He turned around to see James Porter standing in the corridor.

"New blood, huh?" James waltzed into the rec room, attempting to converse with the other S.A.S operators. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. The crowd of people cleared out of the hallway, revealing two men and two women, lined up single file. One had messy brown hair, green eyes, and fair skin. What stood out about him was the horrific scars on the left side of his face. They went over and under his left eye, down his cheek, over his jawline, and on his neck. He had a look of hate and boredom in his expression, bags under his eyes indicated he wasn't one for sleep. The woman behind him looked about the same age. She also had brown hair, green eyes, and white skin. But she didn't look bored. She was nervous, panicked, fidgety even. The next person was a man with short blond-gray hair, some stubble, and stone blue eyes. Behind his calm, cynical demeanor, gleamed a kindred spirit. Behind him was a woman with medium length dirty blond hair, light tan skin, and raw umber eyes. She looked around, observing, taking in the infrastructure. The man with the scars was the only one put in shackles, which were firmly locked around his wrists and ankles, the chains clanked and clacked, hitting together, dragging on the floor, being jiggled together. He dragged his feet begrudgingly. The rubber soles of his converse hi-tops scraped against the linoleum flooring

"Hey o-officer, we should get dinner suh-sometime," Devin said to a female law enforcer. "I'll b-buy you a h-huge bowl of go f-fuck yourself!" He snickered out, the officer narrowing her eyes in annoyance. He looked around, eyeing the three-forths of the S.A.S team. Lilith whispered something to him, he looked back at her, and diverted his sight to his feet. He remained silent for the rest of the walk, or at least what Mark, James and Seamus could see.

Devin, Lilith, Mila, and Markus were marched up a staircase to what would be their living quarters. Lilith observed the room. On one side of the room, there was two bunk beds with sheets neatly put onto them. On the other side, there was a closet, a table, a few chairs, a paper changing screen, and a some storage crates.

"This is where we'll be sleeping?" Lilith questioned, perplexed on why four people would be put in a room so small. They wouldn't be able to function well, much less be comfortable. She sighed and shambled in.

"You're l-lucky they aren't c-cutting your tits off for w-what we did," Devin said dryly. "W-wuh-which bunk do ya want?" He walked in behind her.

"I'll take bottom, less chance of me hurting myself if I fall." Lilith answered, climbing into the bed, pulling the covers over her body. "I'm going back to my nap..." She said, rustling around in the sheets, trying to find a more comfortable position. Devin climbed onto the top bunk, his head almost touching the ceiling while he laid in the bed. He giggled to himself.

"There's b-barely enough r-room for me to juh-jack off up here!" Devin stifled an eruption of laughter, reducing it to what sounded like continuous squeaks of small mice. Mila shot him a weird look, while Markus shot him a dirty one. Lilith, however, chuckled at her brothers obscene statement. His honesty was usually more of a source of comedic value than annoyance, and he was honest almost all the time, much to every bystanders chagrin.

"Why would we need to know that?" Mila climbed into her bunk, resting her head on the surprisingly soft pillow. Devin simply shrugged, still laughing slightly. The four criminals turned to the sound of boots clicking near the doorway. It was the same officer Devin had insulted before.

"Come with me." She said.


	2. Chapter 2: Forced Introductions

The entirety of Team Rainbow were assembled in the commons room, each CTU seated at their own table. The room was large, capable of fitting the thirty eight people in it, while still having space to be comfortable enough to prevent any unnecessary agitation across the inhabitants, which was good, considering they were highly trained operatives that were taught the most efficient ways to execute somebody. Each team was conversing among themselves, most, but not all, talking about some rumors about new recruits that had circulated the entire base. From the GROM unit to the JTF2, everybody was yammering off, discussing who they thought the new operators could be, except for the SAS, as they already read the file. Sledge was slumped in his chair, left arm slung over the back of it, with the other resting on the table, tapping it rhythmically in an impatient manner. Thatcher was flexing with fists, trying to calm the shaking in his hands. He was the oldest operator in Six's repertoire of soldiers, and with age comes experience, sure, but it also came with less desirable things. Take, for example, his mild but still notable case of osteoarthritis. This wrists ached often, hindering his performance on the field. Doc had assessed his problem and recommended arm braces, but they didn't help. The duo that was the JTF2 team was sitting near the podium, chatting nonchalantly about the new operators. Tina "Frost" Lin Tsang was sitting upright in a polite manner with her hands on her knees. She was wearing blue jeans, her black boots, and a grey t-shirt, along with her Under Armor tuque. Buck, sitting beside her, was in a more relaxed position with his arm slung behind the back of the chair.

"Have you seen this _Arson_ character? He looks like he's off his rocker..." Buck had said to Frost with a slight chuckle in his french-accented voice. In an unresponsive stupor, Frost just shrugged.

"Haven't seen the file yet. Pass it over." She requested calmly, sticking out her hand. She opened it. She looked at the picture attached, which was a mugshot. _'A criminal, huh. What are you thinking, Six?'_ She thought while looking at his file. "Devin Whitecastle... stutter... first, second, and third degree arson... organized crime waves... illegal human trafficking... use of concealed carry... murder." She read off the information. "Yeah, he's nuts." She agreed with Buck. "Tā kàn qǐlái hěn qíguài..." She stated.

"What?" Buck asked.

"I said he looks odd." She translated, whilst looking over the file again. She noted Arson was from Kamloops, British Columbia, along with the next new operator, Blowtorch, who seemed to be his sister.

"I knew you could speak Mandarin, but not that much." Buck said.

"I was bound to pick something up." She turned her head to the podium after hearing the jingling of shackles, ambient conversation, muffled laughing, and loud footsteps. A female guard waltzed onto the stage, leading four people in slate grey jumpsuits, which Frost had easily and quickly identified as Arson, Blowtorch, Slugs, and Ace, in that order. Blowtorch looked down at her shuffling feet, Ace stared blankly at the back of Slugs' head, zoned out in a daydream. Arson was fucking with his chains, trying to find a way to rip his hands out. He considered breaking his thumbs on the edge of the podium, then slipping his hands out and strangling the guard, but decided against it due to the mass of trained soldiers in the room. Six then walked onto the stage by the right side, and stepped onto the podium. She opened her mouth to speak.

"As most of you have been speculating, there are some new people joining our forces. Devin and Lilith Whitecastle, Mila Brooks, and Markus Nowak. These new operators are a part of our new Criminal Correction Unit, or CCU for short. Some of them are here for worse crimes than some others. They will be fighting along side you, and you will all get along. They will introduce themselves now. Devin Whitecastle..." She finished, gesturing for the scarred maniac to step to the podium. Devin did not. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Frost in a haze of some cocktail of _something_ he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was a feeling he had never felt before. His chest felt warm. Stars _danced_ in his eyes as he eyed the Chinese-Canadian operator. The entire room shifted their sight towards her as she sat in confusion. Buck just leaned over and spoke to her quietly.

"Devin. DEVIN!" Lilith shook him out of his daze.

"W-wuh-what..?" He choked out. "Oh..." He stepped up, tapping the microphone piece. "Now what t-the fuck am I doing? I wasn't listening." He asked as Lilith sighed.

"Just introduce yourself."

"Ah. Well, my n-name is, um, Devin, and I'm here for a s-shit ton of shit, but who the fuck cares, r-ruh-right?" Whispers worked themselves around the room. "I'm from Canada, and I-I don't know what else to say... so I don't nuh-know." Devin hopped off the podium and sauntered off in a cloud of confusion. Lilith then stepped up.

"Hi. Uh, I'm Lilith, but you can call me Lily if you want. I'm his sister. I like to play blackjack." She got off the podium as well. While Mila started to talk, Lilith worked towards her brother demanding an explanation.

"Hi." Devin greeted abruptly, still pacing around.

"What was that all about? I've never seen you like that before..." Lily inquired.

"Did you s-see that Asian chick with the b-black hair and the Under Armor beanie?" He asked back.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I think I'm in love?" He said.


End file.
